


Kiss Me

by littleboxesofstars



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxesofstars/pseuds/littleboxesofstars
Summary: Bill might have moved too quickly, their noses pressed together a little too hard. His heart thudded in his chest, but Stan was only still against him for a moment, for a beat. Then he tilted his face just slightly, and suddenly they fit together, and Stan kissed him back, and everything was perfect.





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> written for an anon that requested kiss me by ed sheeran + stenbrough! also posted to @trash-the-tozier

The hill was steep, the grass dried out by the midday summer heat, the stretch of ground before them littered with blunt rocks. Bill knew that playing on this hill probably contradicted his mother's instruction for himself and Stan to "stay safe" while playing, but she hadn't told them directly  _not_  to play on the hill, so he was taking this psuedo-loophole and running with it.

Running. They were running quickly down the grassy slope, the gravity of the downhill incline carrying the two boys faster than their little legs would allow. It was kind of scary, Bill admitted, to be moving this quickly with such poor control of their footfalls, but Stan's hand was in his, slightly sweaty and clasping tight. Stan was laughing, a breathless sort of laugh, and it brought a smile to Bill's face too.

He couldn't say which of them tripped, but soon they were tumbling, their hands coming apart, a sharp pain shooting up Bill's elbow as they reached the bottom of the hill and the ground flattened out beneath them. Bill rolled to a stop a few moments later, hearing a whimper a little ways away.  _Stan._  His own pain left his mind, Bill pushing himself up onto his hands and knees and looking for his friend. 

Stan was sitting up, curled in on himself, one of his legs extended across the ground, the other folded with his knee pulled into his chest. He had that screwed-up expression on his face that Bill was coming to recognize, a look that meant Stan was trying very hard not to cry, but it was too late; tears were already rolling down his cheeks, and Bill rushed over to him. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, an obvious question with an even more obvious answer; Stan's knee was bleeding and he was doubtlessly hurt. But Stan nodded in response and Bill helped him to his feet, hobbling together back to Bill's. 

They avoided Mrs. Denbrough, neither of them wanting to get in trouble for hurting themselves. Stan hopped up on Bill's bathroom counter, his little legs dangling, while Bill got out a washcloth and bandaid. The cut was cleaned and bandaged easily, Bill frowning up at his friend in concern.

"Are you okay now?" He asked, and this time they were in the privacy of the bathroom and Stan wasn't trying to put on a brave face anymore, shrugging instead.

"It stings a little." He admitted, Bill falling into thought, wanting some way to help. He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Stan's knee, right over the bandaid.

"There." He said simply. "Love makes cuts and scrapes and stuff feel better. My mom said so."

"Oh." There was a pink dusting across Stan's cheeks, but he smiled. "Okay. Thanks."

 

Four years later and they were thirteen now, Bill lying in the dark at near ten at night, wide awake. Stan's bed was less comfortable than his own, the mattress hard and springy, the sheets stiff. That wasn't why he wasn't sleeping though; Stan was lying next to him, curled in to face him, and they were talking. 

"I think Richie does like Eddie. Like, for real. Like the way Ben likes Beverly, you know?" Bill said, and Stan frowned thoughtfully.

"I don't know. He's Richie. Just because says Eddie is cute doesn't mean he means it." A pause. "I think Eddie likes Richie for real though."

"Oh." That was complicated. Bill didn't really know what to think about that. "Is there anyone you like? You know,  _like?_ "

Stan, who had been looking into his eyes just a moment before, glanced away. He looked at Bill's forehead, Bill's chin, Bill's ear, and anywhere else that wasn't his eyes. 

"Maybe." He finally answered. "I don't know."

Bill just nodded a little. He didn't really know what he would say either, if the situation was reversed and Stan asked him that question. 

"Telling someone you like them would be hard." He said, thinking aloud, his mind back on Richie and Eddie. 

"Not for Richie." Stan said, seeming able to follow his train of thought, though his voice was still slightly hushed. "He talks all the time." 

"I don't know what I would say." Bill said. "What would you tell someone, if you liked them?" 

Stan was quiet for another long moment. 

"I would probably try to show them instead."

"How?" 

Stan met his eyes again, the moonlight through the window putting a light shine in them that Bill found he couldn't look away from. As he watched, Stan's eyes gently fell closed and he leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss on Bill's cheek. The contact lasted only a second, Stan turning in the sheets after his pulled away, so that Bill was looking in shock at the back of Stan's head. 

"Like that, probably." Stan said, before completely falling silent, Bill too distracted by the unfamiliar feeling in his chest and the warmth blossoming throughout his body to reply.

 

Stan had honey colored hair. Bill had always thought of it as brown, but the sunlight he was sitting in made it more golden, the messy curls occasionally catching the wind. He had a faint sunburn across his cheeks and down his nose, but the sun hadn't done much to bring out any freckles, Stan only having a few, one on his chin, another near his bottom left eyelid. That one caught Bill's eye, his gaze traveling slightly upwards. Stan's eyes were a beautiful hazel, a kaleidoscope of browns, yellows, and greens. 

"...Bill?" Stan's voice came to him slowly, and Bill realized he'd been staring. He'd been staring at Stan a lot lately. 

"What?" Bill asked back, averting his gaze to the trees around them. He and Stan were sat on a park bench, and Stan had a book open in his lap. 

"You weren't listening to me, were you." 

Bill just offered up an apologetic grin, Stan giving him a look that wasn't quite as exasperated as the looks he gave Richie, softened by a small smile. 

"Sorry that this is boring." Stan said after a moment, turning a couple of pages. 

"It's not boring." Bill insisted, leaning in and looking at a few of the pages, at the pictures of birds spread throughout blocks of text. He wasn't bored, in truth, though he didn't care much about the birds.

"Then why do you keep zoning out?"

"I wanted to ask you something." 

That was a lie, but Stan glanced up at him, waiting for the question. His lips were still slightly quirked upwards, his whole expression soft and expectant. Bill had to think of something to say, but was too distracted to really do the job.

"What bird is your favorite?" He asked lamely, and Stan laughed. Bill wanted to memorize everything about that laugh. 

"I don't know, really." He turned back to the book, and Bill took the opportunity to openly admire the shape of Stan's nose. "Blue jays, maybe? They're kind of assholes, though."

"Asshole birds?" Bill asked, unable to keep amusement from his voice, and Stan laughed again. 

"They're kind of mean--like territorial and stuff--but they're cool. They're omnivorous, and they can mimic calls of hawks, which is neat. They're in the same family as crows..." Stan kept talking, speaking straight from memory, not once needing to reference the book in his lap. His eyes were so bright as he talked, his voice excited while he spoke of something he was so interested in, and for a moment, Bill felt breathless. Stan was stunning, he thought. Sure, Stan was an awkward sixteen year old just as Bill was, but Bill almost liked that better, the way Stan would speak unexpectedly, or trip over his own feet and grab onto Bill, or the way he would sometimes worry his lip with his teeth as he glanced in Bill's direction. He liked everything about Stan, he realized as he watched Stan speak, circling back to a fact he had known for while, but not fully acknowledged until now.

He liked Stan. 

"...you're not listening to me again." Stan's change in tone brought Bill back the same way it had before, and this time Stan has his eyebrows raised. "Are you alright? Why do you keep staring?" 

"Sorry. Sorry, I just..." Bill didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to explain. So he leaned in, pressing his lips to Stan's.

He might have moved too quickly, their noses pressed together a little too hard. His heart thudded in his chest, but Stan was only still against him for a moment, for a beat. Then he tilted his face just slightly, and suddenly they fit together, and Stan kissed him back, and everything was  _perfect._

 

It was late morning when Bill opened his eyes. The sun was already rising through the sky, bathing the bedroom in light, Bill's whole body warm and content.

The room was a bit messy, clothes thrown off haphazardly the night before, and Bill could already hear Stan's voice, saying that today was a day both of them were off for work, and they should be productive, cleaning while they had the chance, but that could wait. The apartment was small, and a bit cluttered, but it was  _theirs_ , and Bill loved it.

A small shift of sheets next to him had Bill glancing to the right, a smile coming to his lips.

Stan was lying next to him, his golden hair splayed across the pillow, his bare chest rising and falling gently. Bill lost breath for a moment, knowing that regardless of how often he woke up next to Stan, he would never tire of it. He reached closer, wrapping Stan up in his arms and squeezing. Stan let out a small sigh, turning to press himself into Bill's chest.

"Morning." He murmured, pressing a light kiss to Bill's skin, and Bill beamed.

"I love you." He said. Stan laughed a little, his voice coarse with sleep.

"I've loved you for a long time." Stan responded, tilting his face to meet Bill's. Their foreheads touched, wrapped entirely in each other under the sheets, their legs tangled. A light bump, Stan's nose touching his own for just a moment, and their lips met. Bill kissed Stan with all he had, with all the breath in his lungs and all the devotion in his soul, and nothing could touch them for a million miles.


End file.
